August 23 – 28, 2015 French River Delta Canoe Trip (again)
with Randy Sorenson, Glenn Cantello and Heather Wood
by David Ingard.
Clearing the ground sheet of pine needles and dirt? -- just "Shake it off, Shake it off."
Pestered by mosquitoes while making supper? -- "Shake 'em off, Shake 'em off."
How beautiful can the wilderness be after three days of wind and rain? Stunning with a blinding band of sunlight between trees and cloud.
The Trip:
Putting in at Hartley Bay Marina on the Sunday just before noon, we paddled in sunshine down the Western Channel to Campsite #708. Tents up, pants down and into the river for a pre-salmon-dinner swim.
Heading for Bottle Island the second day we found the Olde Voyageur Channel and "lined" the canoes down the drop. Significantly less water than last year.
The wind picked up, we grabbed our courage and started off across the white-capped Fort Channel. Nail biter.
That was the last big stretch of open water between us and Bottle Island. We made it!
At #813, Randy almost stepped on a rattlesnake when he was checking out Glenn's proposed tent site. We moved on to #812.
Whilst exploring the island on our second day, Glenn spotted Rattler #2. Randy tried his best to stick his nose close to the action but remained safe.
Heather stayed far away -- wants to rename the place Rattlesnake Island.
The rain always present or threatening, our sturdy kitchen tarp saved the day.
Paddling for pleasure, we picked up enough driftwood and dead tree limbs to make a roaring fire -- handy for cooking Heather's pork. Yum.
Day Four had us "Meandering" as Randy put it through the Fingerboards and up the French River Main Channel to the Dallas Rapids Portage.
But not for us "experienced" woodsmen. Randy describes it thusly:
I "shaked it off", just like my dog Sydney, at Dallas Rapids.
While we "lined the canoe" up the current. lie. a klutz.
I slopped into a hole up to my belly button.
Safely past, we landed at #622 with the loveliest back-woods "plumbing" we've ever seen -- "We dub thee, Thunder Island."
For the last night's supper, I brought out my old camp staple, Curried Lentils, (sorry about the scorched pot, Randy).
It really was beautiful there nestled among the cedars and pines. Aside from our pet door mouse meeting a gruesome end, it was idyllic.
We saw no bears - only their poo - old and dried. Eagles, squirrels, chipmunks, cormorants, herons, & beavers were all in our sights though.
And so we left the French... things becoming more poignant post wilderness -- The first shower, the first telemarketer call, the first newspaper
article about some senseless killing. Luckily I had a soft landing. At the market this morning I listened to some live music -- soothing and soulful.
